


Nothing's Changed, Everything's Different

by Goldpeaches



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Bad Sex, Community: hobbit_kink, First Orgasm, Gentle Sex, M/M, like a virgin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 05:25:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldpeaches/pseuds/Goldpeaches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bofur finds out that Kíli has never had great sex and is determined to change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing's Changed, Everything's Different

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 2 Prompts at the Hobbit Kink Meme:  
> http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/5346.html?thread=11454434#t11454434  
> Bofur/Kili slow sex. Bofur finds out that Kili is very inexperienced and his few encounters have been fast and not that good. Bofur shows Kili how good he can make the prince feel.
> 
> and   
> http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/7346.html?thread=16070322#t16070322  
> Any/Any or solo, first orgasms. I have such a huge thing for first orgasms, so, anyone gives anyone else their first ever orgasm, or they give themselves their first ever orgasm. Up to you why they haven't orgasmed before or whatever.

„Make some room for the lad to sit,“ someone says, but there is no room to be made. The pub is crowded as it is and twelve dwarves, a wizard and a hobbit take up a considerable amount of space. There is simply no way to fit the thirteenth dwarf at their table without some creativity. 

“’e can sit right here.” It is meant as a joke, but taken as an invitation and that is how Bofur ends up with Kíli in his lap. 

He smiles behind his pipe and sneaks his arm around Kíli’s waist – to keep him from falling off his lap, definitely not because he thinks Kíli is kind of gorgeous. That has nothing to do with it!

He allows Kíli to drink his beer, even lets him steal his pipe. Even though the bit and lip are quite chewed up and embarrassing and unfit for a young prince, Kíli doesn’t notice or care. He is happy and relaxed and completely oblivious to the fact that every time he shifts, his arse rubs against Bofur just right, making it impossible to follow any of the multiple conversations going on around the table. Bofur has heard most of the stories before, anyway, and rather focusses his attention on something more interesting, Kíli’s hair, for example. He curls his hand around a strand and lets it slip through his fingers, itching to just casually put a braid into the tangled mess. He doesn’t, of course, because that would be very inappropriate. He just keeps stroking and twisting small sections around his fingers, because there is nothing inappropriate about a dwarf playing with another dwarf’s hair, is there?

Kíli sure doesn’t seem to think so, or at least doesn’t object, and after a while, Bofur dares to run his hand up Kíli’s spine and stroking the skin on the back of his neck ever so lightly with his thumb. Kíli responds by brushing all hair over his shoulder and bowing his neck, giving Bofur better access. So Bofur rubs the younger dwarf’s neck gently and enjoys the way he leans into the touch. Bofur is starting to think that he isn’t the only one starved for physical contact and affection. Kíli might just have the same need. He drops his hand on Kíli’s leg and moves it between his thighs. When the response is _not_ an elbow to the nose he figures there is no harm in asking. Making sure his lips brush Kíli’s ears he whispers: “How about we take this somewhere a bit quieter?” 

There is a pause and Bofur is convinced that he blew it. He usually does with his tendency to blurt out whatever is on his mind, but, apparently not this time. This time, Kíli takes another long sip from Bofur’s beer, rises to his feet and takes his hand. 

“Let’s go,” he says and tugs Bofur to his feet. There are a few looks as he gets pulled up the stairs to the bedrooms. Some of them deadly, some of them supportive, but all of them kind of gobsmacked. 

 

The room Bofur shares with his cousin and his brother is quieter indeed and that is where they end up. While Bofur lights the torches along the walls for some light, Kíli undresses in record time and, damn, he is a sight for sore eyes.

“Someone is eager to get things started,” Bofur comments.

“I thought it is what you wanted,” Kíli replies and drapes his body onto the bed. Bofur shrugs. He actually likes to remove his partners clothing, likes to explore and taste every new bit of skin he uncovers. But then again, it is surprisingly rare that a gorgeous man throws himself at Bofur, so who is he to complain? 

“It is. Very much.” Bofur snags the bottle of cooking oil Bombur carries in his bag and removes his clothes as well before joining Kíli on the bed. 

“What do you need that for?” Kíli takes the oil and has a look of honest confusion on his face. Bofur understands. With Kíli being a prince he probably has all kinds of fancy lubricants available and never had to improvise in his life. 

“It’s just to make things slide in a little easier,” Bofur says and continues where he left off, stroking Kíli’s head.

“Oh,” Kíli replies, “I didn’t know you could do that!”

“What do you mean?” Now Bofur is confused as well. “What do you usually use?”

“They just spit on me.” 

“Spit? That hurts like balls!” Bofur exclaims. Everyone’s been there once or twice, a desperately horny shag behind the bar with no lube in sight, sure, that’s one thing, but doing it regularly? The thought of it is revolting. Kíli just shrugs his shoulders.

“It’s not so bad,” he says. “I’ve usually had a lot more to drink, so I really don’t notice it very much.”

Kíli does a lot of things well, but lying isn’t one of them. 

“You’re lucky you’re with me now. I promise you won’t feel a thing.” There is a small pause. “I promise you won’t feel a _bad_ thing.”

Bofur is determined to show the younger dwarf how much better things can be with a little preparation. It is his favourite part anyway. The foreplay, the getting ready, the slow build-up of tension, he enjoys it almost a little more than the release itself. 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Let me just turn over and get things started.”

Bofur presses his hand flat against Kíli’s chest to stop him from rolling over onto his stomach.

“Don’t you dare turn your beautiful face away from me.”

He tilts Kíli’s head towards his and kisses him. It is slow and soft at first, lips barely touching. Kíli responds easily, opening his mouth and, yeah, Bofur can work with that. The kiss becomes more demanding and hungry, tongues wrapping around each other, teeth knocking together, and continues until Bofur has to break it to come up for air.

“You’re so hot,” he whispers and moves his mouth down Kíli’s chin and throat. He lets his tongue and lips travel over a sharp collar bone and continues his way down, to find Kíli’s hands on his chest. He takes them into his own and places soft kisses on each fingertip. As soon as he lets them go, Kíli curls them back onto his chest, almost protectively, so Bofur stops and for the first time notices the tense expression on Kíli’s face.

“You are not into this at all, are you,” he asks quietly and Kíli’s eyes snap open.

“Yes, I am,” he protests, truthfully this time. “I just don’t know what to do with my hands.”

“Anything you want. Touch me or yourself, if that works for you,” Bofur suggests. He is not quite sure that he gets the problem until Kíli actually places his hands on his back. It hardly even qualifies as touching at all. His fingertips barely make contact with his skin, almost ghostlike. It tickles more than anything. “What do you usually do?”

“I don’t… I’ve never…” Kíli his eyes are cast down, not meeting Bofur’s while he struggles to find the right words. “You know, when you meet someone in a bar and he buys you drinks and tells you how hot you are you kind of want to have sex with him, but then it is over so quickly, there just isn’t time for touching? I thought that is what you wanted.”

“No!” Bofur shakes his head so vehemently that his hat almost falls off. “That’s horrible!” He leans in for a gentle kiss, trying to reassure Kíli that he doesn’t want to use him just for his own pleasure. 

“Just lay back and let me take care of you.” Bofur picks up where he left off, kissing his way down Kíli’s body. He takes a slight detour to play with his nipples, before moving on, following the trail of dark hair with his tongue. He takes his time and when he finally warps his lips around Kíli’s cock, the lad is anything but anxious, in fact, he is basically purring. 

Had his mouth not been otherwise occupied Bofur would have smiled, but he decides that he can save the gloating and the “I told you so” for later. He continues teasing Kíli with his mouth just enough to keep him in his current blissful state. 

He lets his fingers travel over the boy’s thigh, slips them between his legs and lightly strokes up and down the crack of Kíli’s arse, adoring the shiver he gets in response. After a while he reaches over for the oil, slicks his fingers and carefully inserts it, slipping it in and out. 

He promised that there would be no pain and he intends to keep that promise, even if that means going almost maddeningly slow. He adds a second and a third finger gradually and each little gasp, each little twitch makes the slow pace worth it. Especially when he dragged his fingers over that one spot inside, that made Kíli arch off the bad and push himself onto Bofur’s hand. 

“I think you’re ready,” Bofur says. He removes his fingers and crawls up for another passionate kiss, while he positions himself. Kíli is relaxed and basically just a notch above complete, babbling mush, so Bofur can slide his cock into him with ease, unbearably slow ease. He pauses, when he is buried all the way inside and looks at Kíli carefully. Mouth open, eyes closed, his legs are limply spread as wide as possible and his arms splayed to the side in a moment of complete surrender and _Mahal,_ he is beautiful like this.

Bofur twists his hips slightly, receiving a deep groan in response that sends a delicious heat up his spine and encourages him to start moving in and out in a slow and steady rhythm. He thrusts into the tight body beneath him as gently as he possibly can. All he wants to do is grab his hips and _fuck_ the hell out of Kíli, but the lad deserves to be treated right, even if it drives Bofur insane to hold back. 

“Is it too much,” he asks softly. He has to make sure, because the way Kíli whimpers and bites his lip could be pain or pleasure and he has never been very good at reading signals. His chest is heaving with his deep breaths, his cheeks are flushed and when his eyes flutter open, the pupils are completely blown. 

“No, it’s so good,” he breathes, grinding against Bofur almost desperately. “I just don’t know… It feels so-oh warm in my stomach.” He pushes the heel of his hand into his lower stomach and Bofur can see how that isn’t going to solve anything. 

“Go on, touch yourself. It’d be really hot,” Bofur whispers into Kíli’s ear, but the young dwarf shakes his head.

“I can’t,” he groans, writhing against Bofur. “I’m too young to go blind.”

“Blind?” Bofur has, of course, heard the stories that wanking makes you blind, but if those were true… let’s just say he could be lying here with Òin and not know the difference. “Who told you that?”

“Uhh-uncle... Thorin.”

Bofur can’t stop a snort.

“Your uncle is an arsehole for telling you that and a hypocrite.” Bofur has walked in on the king spending a little quality time with himself at least five times. On this quest alone.

Kíli brings his hand up from his stomach to Bofur’s chest to stop him from moving and looks at him through narrowed eyes.

“Are you insulting my family while you are still inside me?”

“Let’s not dwell on that, okay?” With a wink, Bofur takes Kíli’s hand and warps it around his cock. “How does that feel?” It looks awkward enough and Bofur honestly cannot believe that Kíli has never touched himself before. He wants to admire the lad for having an enormous amount of self-control, but, honestly, he mostly feels pity. On the other hand, it does sort of explain why Kíli is such a well-trained fighter. He didn’t have anything else to do as a teenager!

“It’s okay,” Kíli replies, still a little unsure whether or not he is ready to risk his eyesight. Bofur covers Kíli’s hand with his own and while he continues to thrust in and out deep and slow, shows the boy how to move his hand up and down his shaft and over the tip of his cock.

Seeing Kíli fall apart is one of the most sensual things Bofur has ever seen in his life. His legs wrap around Bofur almost on their own accord and his free hand clutches Bofur’s arm hard enough to bruise.

“What is happening to me?” he whimpers as he loses control of himself entirely. His hips jerk erratically and he actually screams when he comes, shooting over his belly and chest. He is clenching tightly around Bofur and that is all it takes for the older dwarf to follow suit. He only needs one last thrust before he is pushed over the edge himself and collapses on top of Kíli, kissing the shivering lad’s neck.

“And that is how you should be treated every single day,” Bofur whispers, once he had caught his breath.

“Like I would ever go back.”


End file.
